L I B R.AHY 
OF  THE 

U N I V LRS  ITY 
Of  ILLINOIS 

From  the  Library  of 
Dr.  R.  E.  Hieronymus 
1942 

a 1 2 

S yt\  68h 


‘OH.THE  JOY  OF  THE  FARMER;  WHO 
FEELS  THAT  EVERYTHING  IS  UP  TO 
IM,  AND  IS  COCKSURE  HE  CAN  BE 
PTO  EVERYTHING.” 

THE  ALMANAC. 


Sat 


THE  NEW  HAMLET 

INTERMIXED  AND  INTERWOVEN 

WITH 

A REVISED  VERSION  OF  ROMEO  AND  JULIET 


THE  COMBINATION  BEING  MODERNIZED,  RE-WRITTEN  AND  WROUGHT  OUT  ON  NEW-DISCOVERED  LINES,  AS  * 
INDICATED  UNDER  THE  LIGHT  OF  THE  HIGHER  CRITICISM 

BY 

WM.  HAWLEY  SMITH 

AND 

THE  SMITH  FAMILY,  FARMERS 

PRINTED  FROM  THE  ORIGINAL  MANUSCRIPT,  WITH  TEXT  IN  FULL,  AND"AS  FIRST  PRODUCED  WHEN 
DONE  IN  ACTION  BY  THE  SMITHS,  THEIR  OWN  COMPANY,  UNDER  THE  HAW  TREE. 

ON  THEIR  FARM,  AT  THE  THICKET. 


CHICAGO 

RAND,  McNALLY  & CO. 

PUBLISHERS 


r 


I 


Sm  68  v : 

P 

o' 

“If  Hamlet  had  married  Juliet;  and  Romeo 
been  wedded  to  Ophelia;  all  would  have 
lived  happily  ever  afterwards/' 

Wandering  Willie . 


1 2004 15 


12  A tig.  42  g HieroDymous 


c 


' 


FORE- 

WORD 


In  deference  to  truth,  it  should  be  stated,  at  the  outset,  that  Bacon 
did  not  write  this  play.  All  the  signs  indicate  this  fact.  There  is  no 
need  of  going  into  detail.  Bacon  is  not  located  as  far  back  as — "de-tail.” 

However,  let  not  the  composition  be  despised  if  it  should  be  shown 
that  it  is  not  the  product  of  a sugar-cured  author.  It  may  turn  out  that 
it  had  an  origin  higher  even  than  that. 

For,  see:  That  which  makes  bacon  is  greater  than  the  bacon  it 
makes,  and  hence  is  greater  than  anything  that  the  bacon  it  has  made 
can  make.  This  play  was  made  by  farmers.  Farmers  make  bacon; 
and  hence,  even  if  their  product  had  produced  the  play,  by  the  stern 
laws  of  logic  it  could  not  have  been  as  good  as  it  is  now. 

Quod  erat  demonstrandum. 

These  facts  establish  the  pedigree  of  our  play  beyond  all  chance  of 
illegitimacy.  It  can,  therefore,  be  admitted  into  the  society  of  the  400 
without  fear  of  contamination  or  contagion.  It  will  not  soil  the  slight- 
est intellect,  and  is  guaranteed  to  be  non-irritating  and  unthinkable. 

Furthermore,  it  can  be  administered  without  the  least  knowledge 
on  the  part  of  the  recipient,  a quality  which  shows  that  it  is  in  harmony 
with  nearly  all  of  the  most  modern  plays,  and  so  gives  it  the  right  to 
rank  with  them  among  the  first.  THE  AUTHORS 


4 


ORIGINAL  CAST  OF  CHARACTERS 


The  Queen Mrs.  Mary  Jane  Galusha 

Lady  Montague Mrs.  Nancy  Ophelia  Smith 

Hamlet William  Hawley  Smith 

Ophelia Ellen  Galusha  Smith 

Romeo Arthur  Galusha  Smith 

Juliet Bessie  Curran  Smith 

Courtier Leslie  Hawley  Smith 

Master  Hamlet Paul  Curran  Smith  * 

Baby  Hamlet Dudley  Galusha  Smith 


This  play  was  originally  written  for,  and  first  produced  as,  the  44 entertain- 
ment ” part  of  a Lawn  Party  which  was  given  at  a country  home.  The  veranda 
of  the  house  furnished  the  stage  for  the  performance,  and  the  audience  was  seated 
in  chairs  upon  the  lawn  in  front. 

It  was  a somewhat  unusual  feature  of  the  original  cast  of  characters  that  it 
included  four  generations,  the  youngest  member  being  only  one  year  old,  while 
the  two  leading  ladies,  the  Queen  and  Lady  Montague,  were  eighty-two  and 
eighty  years  of  age,  respectively. 


5 


Prologue 


Gentlest  perchance  you  wonder  at  this  show, 

But  wonder  on  till  truth  mattes  all  things  plain. 
Ule’re  not  a=going  to  tell  a tale  of  woe. 

Of  awful  tragedy,  of  death  and  pain. 

Olhen  Shakespeare  wrote  those  doubly  grewsome  plays 
Of  Bamlet,  Borneo  and  Juliet, 

Be  wrote  of  things  well  suited  to  those  days, 

But  not  to  times  like  ours  to=day,  you  bet. 

Be  made  both  outfits  quarrel,  slay  and  slug, 

And  play  to  hard  luck  in  a score  of  ways, 

'em  all  were  dead,  by  dagger,  sword  or  drug, 

And  none  were  left  to  hold  their  obsequies. 

But  modern  thought  declares  these  things  all  wrong. 

there  is  no  need  of  such  a waste  of  lives; 

Both  men  it  would  have  marry  and  live  long. 

Both  women  make  the  happiest  of  wives, 
to  bring  these  things  about  two  mothers  plan, 
two  wise  old  mothers,  stronger  far  than  Fate. 

See  them  get  in  their  work,  as  mothers  can, 

Jlnd  bring  these  lovers  strictly  up  to  date, 
the  which  if  you  with  patient  ear  attend, 

, What  here  shall  miss,  our  toil  shall  strive  to  mend. 


6 


ACT  I. 

SCENE  I.  Elsinore.  A Room  in  the  Castle . 

Enter  Hamlet. 

Ham.  To  do,  or  not  to  do,  that  is  the  question: — 

Whether 't  is  nobler  in  the  mind  to  bear 
. The  snubs  a fellow  gets — to  cringe,  and  take 
Whatever  comes  along,  or  to  take  arms 
Against  the  mob,  go  up  against  'em  hard, 

And  clean  'em  out.  That  is  what  puzzles  me. 

The  king  is  dead,  my  uncle  wears  the  crown; 

My  mother's  married  to  the  carpet-bagger. 

So  I'm  done  up ! Between  the  two  I'm  left ! 

Most  beautifully  left,  slugged,  scooped  and  squelched ; 
Set  down  on  hard ! And  now  what's  to  be  done  ? 

I give  it  up ! The  game's  too  tough  for  me  I 
It  makes  me  tired ; yes,  worse,  gives  me  a pain. 

But  break  my  heart,  for  I must  hold  my  tongue. 

Enter  Ophelia. 


Oph.  How  now,  my  lord ? What  is 't  that  makes  you  frown? 

Methinks  I never  saw  you  look  so  sad. 

Ham . Aye,  marry ! How  should  ever  I be  gay  ? 

Or  why  should  you  be  so,  sweet  maid  ? 

Is  not  this  life  a suck  and  sell  throughout? 

Oph.  Good  sooth,  it  is,  and  truly  so,  my  lord. 

And  't  is  for  me,  I’m  sure,  as  well  as  you. 

I hate  it  all ; 't  is  all  a sham  and  show, 

And  all  goes  wrong,  whichever  way  we  go. 

My  doll  is  stuffed  with  sawdust,  or  with  bran ; 

And  who  cares  which  ? 

Ham.  'Tis  even  so,  dear  girl; 

We're  both  the  dupes  of  fate ! But  still  we  love ! 

I guess  we  love,  I rather  think  we  do ! 

Don't  you  ? 

Oph.  Oh,  yes!  We  love,  we  love,  of  course! 

But  then,  I wonder  if  it  pays  to  love ; 

Or,  loving,  to  be  wed!  To  buy  new  clothes, 


8 


To  have  them  made,  fitted,  tried  on,  put  off, 

Packed  in  a trunk,  or  worn  to  show  the  crowd  ^ 

How  many  ducats  may  be  fooled  away ! 

Oh,  Hamlet,  I am  weary  of  this  world, 

And  would  the  night  were  come  to  end  it  all ! 

Ham,  And  so  wish  I,  Ophelia ! But  I know 

We'll  have  to  stand  it ! So  brace  up  a while! 

We'll  smile,  and  smile,  and  do  the  regular  thing ; 

That  is  the  way  in  Denmark,  says  the  king. 

Oph.  Yes,  and  the  queen.  They  pipe  the  selfsame  tune;  #)- 

And  you  and  I must  dance  as  they  ordain. 

Now  I'll  go  sew  some  more,  though  my  back  aches. 

Adieu,  my  lord! 

Ham,  Adieu,  Ophelia!  Ah!  [Exit  Ophelia. 

Oh,  that  this  too,  too  skinny  flesh  would  all 
Dry  up  and  blow  away,  like  Kansas  dew ! 

How  weary,  stale,  flat  and  unprofitable 
Seem  to  me  all  the  uses  of  this  world. 


9 


Fye  on't!  Oh,  fye!  'T is  an  un weeded  garden, 

That  grows  to  seed ; things  rank  and  gross  in  nature, 
Possess  it  merely.  That  it  should  come  to  this ! 

Enter  Queen. 

Queen  Now  Hamlet ; what 's  the  matter  ? 

Ham . Now  Mother ; what 's  the  matter  ? 

Queen  Hamlet,  thou  hast  thy  father  much  offended. 

Ham.  Mother,  you  have  my  father  much  offended. 

Queen  Come,  come,  you  answer  with  an  idle  tongue. 

Ham.  Go,  go,  you  question  with  a wicked  tongue. 

Queen  Why,  how  now,  Hamlet  ? 

Ham.  What 's  the  matter  now ! 

Queen  Have  you  forgot  me  ? 

Ham.  No,  by  the  rood,  not  so : — 

You  are  the  Queen,  your  husband's  brother's  wife, 
And,  — would  it  were  not  so!  You  are  my  mother! 
Queen  Now  Hamlet,  don't  get  gay,  nor  be  too  brash. 

Just  keep  your  underclothing  on  a while, 


Or  else,  perchance,  you  'll  take  cold  in  your  head, 

And  swell  it  like  a toad  that 's  fit  to  burst. 

I am  your  mother,  and  you  are  my  son. 

The  king,  your  father  ' s dead.  All  this  is  true, 

And  I am  wedded  to  your  uncle  now. 

Ham . Mother,  sit  down,  and  I will  wring  your  heart. 

Queen  Hamlet,  keep  still,  or  I will  box  your  ears. 

You  think  to  call  me  down,  you  silly  boy. 

Because  you've  played  at  ping  pong  and  bridge  whist, 
You  think  you  know  it  all.  You  make  me  sick! 

Ham.  Look  on  this  picture,  mother,  then  on  this. 

Queen  And  that  I will.  And  have  you  any  more  ? 

If  so,  show  up,  or  down,  I care  not  which. 

So ! If  you 've  said  your  say,  you  callow  youth, 

We'll  now  proceed  to  business.  Look  you  here! 
You're  mad  because  you  are  not  king.  You  think 
‘Twere  merely  fun  to  sit  upon  a throne. 

But  let  me  tell  you,  boy,  that  you  're  dead  wrong. 


n 


Now  listen,  while  I do  a tale  unfold 
Will  put  you  on  to  the  real  truth  of  things. 

'Tis  a tough  job  to  be  a king!  'Twas  that 
That  killed  your  father,  that  I know.  He  died 
From  nervous  shock,  caused  by  a quick  decision 
Of  the  Supreme  Court.  He  had  thought  ' t would  take 
Them  years  to  reach  the  sticking-point.  But  no ! 

They  made  their  guess  of  what  was  best  to  do, 

(What's  best's  their  task,  not  what  is  right  or  wrong.) 

In  just  four  hours ! It  took  his  breath  away, 

And  so  he  died ! For  who  can  live,  sans  breath  ? 

Ham . But,  mother,  I have  seen  his  ghost ! Last  night  — 

Queen  Oh,  stuff!  You  are  the  victim  of  a scheme 

That  I know  well.  Those  “ Smart  Set"  chums  of  yours, 
Horatio,  and  Marcellus  and  their  kin, 

Are  vexed  because  your  uncle  turned  them  down. 

They  think  if  you  were  king,  they  would  be  in  it ; 

As  I am  sure  they  would.  But  you  're  not  king ; 


12 


No,  nor  yet  shall  be,  for  these  many  years. 

’ T is  they  have  played  upon  you  with  this  ghost ; * 

Which  is  no  sprite,  but  solid  flesh  and  bone. 

I set  the  chief  detective  after  him 

And  ran  him  in  last  night,  and  he ’s  in  jail. 

You  can  consult  him  there  when  e're  you  wish! 

Meantime,  a word  or  two  between  ourselves. 

Ham . Mother,  is  all  this  true,  upon  your  word  ? 

Queen  Upon  my  word ; and  much  beside,  which  hear ! 

Ham.  Swear  it  upon  my  sword ! ^ 

Queen  Upon  your  sword,  I swear. 

And  I '11  not  only  swear,  but  P 11  tell  truth : 

I said  it  is  no  small  thing  to  be  a king ! 

Why,  look  you,  how  they  die,  these  princely  men ; 

How  some  have  been  deposed,  some  slain  in  war, 

Some  poisoned  by  their  wives,  some  sleeping  killed ; 

All  murdered ; — For  within  the  hollow  crown 
That  rounds  the  mortal  temples  of  a king 


13 


Death  keeps  his  court;  and  there  the  antick  sits 
* Scoffing  his  state,  and  grinning  at  his  pomp ; 

Allowing  him  a breath,  a little  scene, 

To  monarchize,  be  feared,  and  kill  with  looks, 
Infusing  him  with  self  and  vain  conceit, 

As  if  this  flesh  which  walls  about  our  life 
Were  brass  impregnable;  and,  humored  thus, 
Comes  at  the  last,  and  with  a little  pin 
Bores  through  his  castle  wall,  and  — farewell  king. 
C And  in  that  great  new  realm,  United  States, 

’ T is  most  as  bad  just  to  be  president. 

For,  see  my  son,  in  less  than  forty  years 
Three  presidents  have  died  unnatural  deaths  — 
Great  Lincoln,  Garfield  wise,  McKinley  true. 

All  these  were  men,  not  boys  without  a beard ! 
Such  leadership  but  ill-becomes  a youth. 

And  so  in  that  great  land  it  is  ordained 
That  no  man  shall  be  president  till  he  *s 


14 


Past  thirty-five,  the  age  of  men. 

'Tis  a wise  law,  that  Denmark  well  might  note; 

And  if  they  fail,  I ’ll  note  it  for  them,  or 
At  least  I ’ll  see  that  no  born  son  of  mine , 

Sits  on  the  throne  till  he  has  years  and  strength 
To  keep  his  seat!  This  is  the  reason  why 
I married  with  your  uncle : to  save  you ! 

Ham . Oh,  mother,  you  are  wise;  I never  thought — 

Queen  Of  course  you  never  thought!  You  are  not  old 

Enough  to  think ; and  yet  you  would  be  king ! ^ 

The  times  are  out  of  joint.  ’ T were  cursed  spite 
Should  any  green  hand  try  to  set  them  right. 

Just  see  what's  to  be  done;  what  questions  rise  — 

This  Cuban  business,  and  the  Philippines ; 

With  sugar  beets  and  reciprocity. 

Why,  ’ tis  enough  to  sink  a navy  of 

Great  men.  It  has  sunk  some,  and  will  sink  more. 

But  let  them  sink,  while  you  out-ride  the  storm, 


15 


Out  of  harm 's  way,  within  the  harbor  safe. 

Your  uncle  is  the  man  to  go  against 

This  sea  of  troubles,  for  he  's  tough  and  strong. 

He  's  an  old  politician,  sleek  and  wise. 

He  graduated  under  Matt  McKee ; 

Took  private  lessons  from  him,  and  learned  how 
To  blow  both  hot  and  cold  with  the  same  breath; 
Look  up  with  one  eye,  with  the  other  down,  * 

Or  east  or  west,  or  north  or  south  at  will, 
Whichever  way  would  win  him  delegates 
To  the  convention.  He's  the  man  to  take 
The  helm  of  state  in  shifting  times  like  these. 

He  '11  make  mistakes ; but  let  him  bear  the  blame. 
And  when  he 's  through,  wrecked  by  the  blunder  of 
Some  crazed  fanatic,  who  will  yell,  some  day, 

“ Rum,  Romanism  and  Rebellion,"  to  the  crowd, 
Who  '11  charge  it  back  to  him,  and  turn  him  down  — 
Then,  when  the  storm  is  over,  sail  you  in, 


16 


And  on  the  wreckage  which  his  error  makes, 

Rear  up  a kingdom  that  shall  stand  for  years. 

Ham.  Oh,  mother,  how  came  you  to  be  so  wise? 

Queen  I Ve  been  abroad,  my  son,  I Ve  traveled  far ; 

Far  as  the  land  of  Uncle  Sam,  and  there 
I learned  the  trick  I 'm  teaching  you  tonight. 

There  is  a party  there  they  call  Republican. 

They 9 re  old  hands  at  the  grindstone  on  such  things. 

Whene  *er  their  country  gets  all  tangled  up, 

They  let  the  Democrats  come  into  power.  ^ 

Anon  the  storm  comes  on,  which  none  could  stay  — 

A storm  that ’s  been  a-brewing  through  the  years ; 

Which,  when  it  breaks,  blows  panic  far  and  wide, 

Pours  out  destruction  like  a whelming  flood, 

And  fills  the  land  with  misery  and  woe. 

Then,  when  the  troublous  times  are  at  their  worst 
The  Democrats  get  blamed  for  the  whole  thing ; 

The  people  rise,  en  masse,  and  turn  them  out.  . 


17 


Then  the  Republicans  get  back  their  jobs, 

The  skies  all  cleared,  the  seas  all  calm  for  sail. 

'Tis  a great  scheme,  my  son!  I learned  it  well, 
And  play  it  now  for  you.  So  now  do  this : — 

Go  you  away  back  and  sit  down,  and  wait ! 

While  the  grass  grows  your  horse  shall  not  get  lean. 
I 'll  feed  him  well-cured  hay,  which  I have  stacked 
Against  the  starving-time  I saw  must  come. 
Meantime,  to  gratify  you  while  you  wait, 

Go  you  abroad.  You've  never  traveled  much; 

'T  will  brace  you  up  to  see  the  world  a while. 

I have  a friend  in  old  Verona  fair, 

The  Lady  Montague,  my  schoolmate,  years  ago. 

I '11  letter  you  to  her,  and  she  will  give 
You  introduction  to  the  elite  there. 

There  spend  your  time,  enjoy  yourself  in  full ; 

And,  if  it  so  falls  out,  find  there  a wife  — 

Ham . A wife  ? Good  mother,  here 's  Ophelia. 


18 


Am  I not  pledged  to  her?  'Twould  make  her  mad  I 
Queen  That  would  it  not,  my  son ; not  half  so  mad 
As  to  wed  you.  You're  not  the  man  for  her. 

She 's  a good  girl,  but  she's  too  like  to  you. 

You  both  are  bilious,  naturally  so. 

You  both  are  filled  with  gloom,  despondency 
And  doubt.  You  both  take  tonics,  every  day; 

She  for  her  nerves,  you  for  your  stomach 's  sake, 
'Till  you're  like  walking  drug  stores,  both  of  you. 
Now,  being  such,  if  you  should  wed,  what  would 
Your  offspring  be?  Consider  that,  I pray. 

They  would  be  bluer  far  than  indigo ; 

Crosser  than  bears  — in  full,  degenerates. 

This  should  not  be.  We  need  some  sterner  stock 
In  Denmark,  for  the  years  that  are  to  come. 

So  fare  you  forth!  Find  you  a wife  whose  vim 
Shall  counteract  your  muggy-natured  gall. 

So  shall  our  realm  be  blessed,  all  be  made  glad, 


D 


y 


\9 


And  virtue  worshipped  as  her  own  reward* 

I '11  fix  Ophelia ; for  her  never  fear. 

A woman  old,  a woman  young  can  steer! 

Ham . Mother,  I fly.  I haste  myself  away. 

'Tis  your  right  to  command;  my  duty  to  obey.  [ Exeunt . 

SCENE  II.  Verona — A garden  near  the  castle. 

Enter  Juliet. 

Jut.  • O,  Romeo,  Romeo ! Wherefore  art  thou,  Romeo  ? 

Or  why  not  Edward  Bok,  or  Elbert  Hubbard, 

Or  some  sweet  soul  my  folks  would  like  to  see 
Me  wedded  to  ? Oh,  be  some  other  name ! 

What's  in  a name?  That  which  we  call  a rose 
By  any  other  name  would  smell  as  sweet ; 

So  Romeo  would,  were  he  not  Romeo  called. 

Romeo,  doff  thy  name,  and  for  that  name. 

Which  is  no  part  of  thee,  take  all  myself. 

Enter  Romeo. 


20 


Rom.  Shall  I hear  more,  or  shall  I speak  at  this  ? 

I'll  try  my  luck. — I take  thee  at  thy  word. 
Henceforth  I never  will  he  Romeo. 

Jul.  By  whose  direction  found  you  out  this  place  ? 
Rom.  By  love,  who  first  did  prompt  me  to  inquire. 

He  lent  me  counsel  and  I lent  him  eyes. 

I am  no  pilot ; yet,  wert  thou  as  far 

As  that  vast  shore  washed  with  the  farthest  seas 

I would  adventure  for  such  merchandise. 

Jul.  Thou  know  'st  the  mask  of  night  is  on  my  face ; 
Else  would  a maiden  blush  bepaint  my  cheek 
To  hear  thee  rave  so,  over  little  me. 

And  yet,  since  it  is  dark,  and  none  can  look, 

I '11  tell  thee  truly  of  my  own  wild  love. 

To  draw  it  mild,  I'm  wholly  mashed  on  thee! 
But  if  thou  think 'st  I am  too  quickly  won, 

I '11  frown  and  be  perverse,  and  say  thee  nay, 

So  thou  wilt  woo ; but,  else,  not  for  the  world ! 


» 


> 


21 


Rom.  I ’ll  woo  thee,  say  thou  yea  or  nay,  my  sweet ! 

I ’ll  tell  my  love  to  all  the  listening  spheres. 

I’ll  whisper  to  the  infinite  thy  gracious  charms; 

I ’ll  sing  thy  praises  through  th  ’ unending  years. 

Tell  me  what  I may  do  to  pleasure  thee; 

Where  shall  I go,  what  get,  what  bring? 

Jul.  Oh,  bring  me  but  thyself ; that  is  enough. 

Give  me  my  Romeo,  I care  for  naught  besides. 

Let  him  lie  breathing  in  these  arms  of  mine, 

While  we  both  live.  And  if  you  die ; oh,  night, 
Take  him,  and  cut  him  out  in  little  stars, 

And  he  will  make  the  face  of  heaven  so  fine 
That  all  the  world  will  be  in  love  with  night, 

And  pay  no  worship  to  the  garish  sun ! 

But  soft!  Who  comes  anon?  Kiss  me,  my  love! 
Rom.  Oh,  that  thy  mouth  were  one  vast  island,  girl ; 

My  lips  the  sea,  to  kiss  thee  evermore ! 

But  now,  since  some  one  comes,  we  needs  must  part; 


22 


Though  only  till  some  other  day.  Adieu ! 

Jul.  Adieu  1 My  soul,  a thousand  times  good  night  I 
Rom . A thousand  times  the  more  to  want  thy  light. 

Jul.  Romeo ! 

Rom . My  sweet  I 

Jul*  At  what  o'clock  to-morrow 

Shall  I call  thee  up  ? 

Rom.  At  the  hour  of  nine. 

Jul  I will  not  fail ; ' t is  twenty  years  till  then ! 

I have  forgot  why  I did  call  thee  back ! 

Rom . Let  me  stand  here  till  thou  remember  it. 

Jul.  I shall  forget  to  have  thee  still  stand  there, 
Remembering  how  I love  thy  company. 

Rom.  And  I 'll  still  stay,  to  have  thee  still  forget ; 

Forgetting  any  other  home  but  this. 

Jul.  Good  night,  good  night!  Parting  is  such  sweet  sorrow 
That  I shall  say — good  night,  till  it  be  morrow. 

Exit  Juliet. 


O 


23 


Rom . By  all  the  gods  at  once,  but  she 's  a peach, 

A plum,  an  apricot,  a daisy,  all! 

And  she  's  as  stuck  on  me  as  I on  her ! 

Would  that  the  morn  were  come.  How  can  I wait? 
But  soft ! What  was  it  came  a-prowling  round, 

And  scared  her  off  the  nest  ? Ah,  here  it  comes ! 

I '11  speak  to  it,  though  hell  itself  should  gape 
And  bid  me  hold  my  peace ! Who  art  thou  thus  — ? 

Enter  Lady  Montague. 

Lady  M.  I am  thy  mother,  boy,  so  don 't  be  scared. 

Rom.  I am  not  scared : and  yet  methinks  it  strange 

That  at  this  dread  hour  of  the  night  you  should 
Be  here.  Why  not  at  home,  and  safe  in  bed  ? 

Lady  M.  And  why  not  you  at  home,  and  safe  in  bed  ? 

The  quip  is  pertinent,  and  works  both  ways. 

Rom.  I came  to  meet  a friend  who  oft  walks  here, 

When  dewy  night  leads  forth  her  starry  train. 

Lady  M.  And  I'm  returning  from  our  Woman's  Club! 


24 


The  meeting  held  a trifle  late  to-night, 

So  F m late  out.  And  yet  I thank  the  stars  ^ * 

It  fell  out  thus,  for  so  I chanced  on  you, 

And  learned  the  secret  that  you  've  held  from  me. 

I saw  your  friend,  and  heard  your  speech  with  her ! 

Rom . Mother,  I never  thought  you  'd  play  the  spy. 

I ask  you,  is  it  honorable  or  fair  ? 

Lady  M.  I am  no  spy ! It  needs  no  spy  to  note 
A pair  of  lovers  that  proclaim  their  love 
'Till  all  the  country-side  is  full  of  noise. 

Though  I were  blind  as  Homer,  deaf  as  Death, 

I could  not  miss  thee,  being  on  this  earth. 

Oh,  good  my  son,  walk  by  my  side,  and  I 
Will  tell  you  then  a little  thing  or  two. 

Rom.  I'll  listen,  mother,  but  speak  not  too  loud. 

Lady  M.  I '11  not  speak  loud,  but  I '11  speak  true,  my  son  — 

Romeo,  to  tell  plain  truth,  you  are  a chump! 

You  gush  to  Juliet,  she  giggles  back  to  you. 


25 


> 


You  rave,  and  she  makes  goo-goo  eyes,  that  swim. 
What  boots  it  all  ? The  flicker  of  a rush, 

The  clatter  of  a cackling,  girlish  tongue. 

Hear  what  she  said.*  “Take  him,  oh  night,  and  cut 
Him  up  in  little  stars,  and  he  will  make 
The  face  of  heaven  so  fine  that  all  the  world  ” — 
You  would  look  well,  good  sooth,  cut  out  in  stars 
And  fastened  to  the  sky  with  safety-pins. 

Oh,  son  of  mine,  come  off  that  perch  at  once, 

And  let  me  see  your  feet  on  solid  ground. 

Rom.  Mother,  I do  protest  you  are  unfair. 

Because  the  lady  is  a Capulet, 

You  deem  her  all  unworthy  of  my  love. 

But  let  me  tell  you  she  is  fair  and  good. 

Lady  M.  She  may  be  fair  and  good,  but  she  rs  a goose. 

A silly  goose,  naught  else,  I say,  who  know. 

I care  not  she ’s  a Capulet,  not  I. 

I 'd  give  his  majesty,  The  Devil,  his  due ; 

■ 


« 


26 


And  so  a Capulet,  or  him  or  her. 

I know  bogs  may  produce  the  fairest  flowers, 

And  rarest  orchids  grow  on  rotting  trees. 

’Tis  not  the  stock  I rail  at,  but  the  girl. 

She  ’s  just  a spoony,  foolish  little  thing ; 

No  wife  for  you,  as  some  day  you  will  see. 

Rom . But,  mother,  she  will  grow.  All  girls,  when  young  — 

Lady  M.  Now  hear  me,  Romeo;  cut  this  all  out, 

And  let  me  guide  your  errant  steps  once  more. 

You’re  young  to  talk  of  love  that  is  worth  while.  ) 

Besides,  what  right  have  you  to  take  a wife  ? 

No  man  should  wive  till  he  can  have  a home 
To  lead  his  wife  to;  and  what  home  have  you? 

Who  bought  that  necktie;  paid  for  those  new  shoes? 

Your  doublet  and  your  hose;  your  hat  and  gloves? 

’T  was  papa  paid  it  all,  and  still  must  pay. 

You’ve  never  earned  a penny  in  your  life. 

You’ve  been  to  college,  there  learned  how  to  play  v 


27 


At  foot-ball,  and  to  smoke  a cigarette. 

You've  also  graduated,  in  new  clothes. 

And  now,  what  next  ? I prithee  tell  me  that. 

Rom . I pass,  mamma ! I '11  let  you  make  it  next ! 

Lady  M.  You  jest,  my  son;  but  let  me  tell  thee,  boy, 

The  time  is  past  for  jesting,  in  your  case. 

Your  father  is  a bankrupt  while  we  talk! 

Rom,  A bankrupt,  mother?  Tell  me,  how  is  that! 

Lady  M.  Why,  plain  enough.  He 's  one  of  those  who  sold 
Short  on  the  West  Pacific  stock.  You  know 
The  rest,  or  should  know,  if  you  know  at  all. 
He's  dropped  the  last  round  ducat  that  he  has, 
And  Hill  and  Morgan  hold  a mortgage  on 
His  house,  his  lands,  and  all  but  you  and  me. 
Rom.  Oh,  mother,  this  is  terrible,  in  truth ; 

Indeed  it  is ! And  now  what 's  to  be  done  ? 

Lady  M.  Ah,  now  you're  Romeo,  my  own  true  son! 

I '11  tell  you  presently  what  you  can  do. 

i ■ 


28 


You  shall  win  back  a fortune  for  your  sire, 

And  make  round  millions  for  yourself  the  while. 

There 's  one  great  way  to  fortune  in  this  world, 

And  that  way  you  shall  take,  and  win  it  through. 

Be  a promoter,  Romeo,  son  of  mine ! 

Exploit  some  scheme  that  fs  based  on  watered  stock. 

For  ' 1 is  the  alchemy  of  this  great  age 
To  turn  clear  water  into  yellow  gold. 

9 T was  once  a miracle  to  make  of  water,  wine ; 

But  men  have  passed  that  mark,  in  these  last  days.  > 

Nor  will  they  stop  or  stay  till  they  have  turned 
Old  Neptune  fs  Ocean  into  paper  stocks, 

And  sold  them  all  to  lambs,  who'll  baa  for  more! 

Now,  while  the  game  is  on,  before  it  drops 
(For  drop  it  must,  ere  many  moons  can  pass), 

Get  in  your  work,  and  make  your  fortune  sure. 

I have  the  plan  all  laid,  and  here  it  is : — 

Go  you  to  Denmark, ' t is  the  very  place 


29 


To  float  a navy  load  of  wind  and  gall. 

I'll  give  you  letters  that  shall  make  a way 
For  you  to  enter  the  first  circles  there. 

I know  the  queen ; she 's  an  old  friend  of  mine. 

We  were  both  school-girls  in  the  self-same  town ; 

Were  room-mates  there,  slept  in  one  bed  and  ate 
Our  caramels  from  out  one  common  sack. 

She'll  give  you  carte  blanche  to  the  upper  ten. 

Once  in  that  rank,  all  else  will  come,  in  time. 

For  that  which  royalty  proclaims  is  right 
Goes  with  the  people,  any  day  or  night ! 

Rom.  Mother,  I'  11  go ! I'  11  play  to  win,  you  bet ; 

And  you  can  tell  the  old  governor  not  to  fret. 

I ' 11  work  your  plans  out  to  the  utmost  line, 

And  then,  like  Monte  Christo,  shout,  “ The  world  is  mine! " 

Exit  Romeo. 

Lady  M.  So ! I've  fixed  him ! Now  let  Miss  Juliet  go. 

Do  what  she  may,  she 9 11  ne ' er  catch  Romeo. 

Exit  Lady  Montague. 


30 


ACT  II. 

SCENE  I. — Verona.  A room  in  the  palace. 
Enter  Messenger. 

Mes.  Here  is  a letter  for  you,  madam. 

Lady  M.  A letter  ? And  from  Denmark,  too ! 1 T is  strange ! 

[She  reads .] 

This  will  commend  to  you  my  son,  Lord  Hamlet, 
Who  comes  to  your  fair  clime  in  search  of  health 
And  wholesome  entertainment.  For  the  sake 
Of  an  old  friendship  give  him  welcome  such 
As  he  deserves  and  you  would  fain  bestow  — 

Such  as  I rd  gladly  give  were  he  your  son, 

And  I his  host,  instead  of  just  his  mother. 

Signed,  The  Queen. 

Now  here  is  news  indeed. 

Good  sirrah ! Bring  the  gentleman  forthwith. 

[Exit  Messenger.  He  retuns , bringing  Hamlet.] 
Welcome,  Lord  Hamlet,  to  our  humble  house. 


■>-» 


31 


I trust  your  lordship  finds  himself  in  health. 

Ham.  I am,  dear  lady,  but  indifferent  well ; 

And  yet  I greet  your  ladyship  with  love. 

Lady  M.  I feel  your  grief,  and  know  whence  comes  your  woe, 
Being  so  near  your  father ’s  funeral. 

Ham . Pray  do  not  mock  me,  Madam  Montague ! 

You  should  speak  of  my  mother’s  wedding. 

Lady  M.  Indeed,  my  lord,  it  followed  hard  upon. 

Ham.  Thrift,  thrift,  dear  madam.  The  funeral  bak ’d  meats 
Did  coldly  furnish  forth  the  marriage  tables. 

Would  I had  met  my  dearest  foe  in  heaven — . 

Lady  M.  These  are  but  wild  and  whirling  words,  my  lord. 

Be  not  cast  down  whene ’ er  afflictions  come ; 
Remember  that  the  death  of  sires  is  common. 

Your  father  had  a father,  and  he  died; 

His  father,  and  his  father  ’s  father  so. 

Be  not  rebellious  at  the  ways  of  Fate. 

We’ll  cheer  you  up  in  this  bright  land  of  ours. 


32 


We  have  a noble  band  of  young  men  here, 

Mercutio,  Benvolio  and  the  rest ; 

And  fair  young  maids  as  well ! I promise  you 
They  '11  clear  this  band  of  sadness  from  your  brow, 
And  make  the  world  look  bright  to  you  again. 

Oh,  youth  is  youth,  my  lord,  and  should  be  so ; 

We'll  teach  you  to  drink  deep  or  ere  you  go. 

Ham . Thanks,  gracious  madam,  for  your  kindly  words ; 

They  cheer  my  heart  like  songs  of  sweet-voiced  birds. 
Lady  M.  Ah,  now  you  speak  as  young  men  should.  Ne ' er  fear 
You'll  live  to  bless  the  day  that  brought  you  here. 

Ham.  I kiss  thy  hand,  dear  madam,  leal  and  true ; 

I 'm  glad  I met  you ; and  so  now,  Adieu ! 

Exit  Hamlet. 

Lady  M.  Now  let  the  gods  of  Love  and  Fate  combine 
To  help  me  work  a deep-laid  plan  of  mine. 

I ' 11  work  his  lordship  off  on  Juliet, 

And  have  them  wedded  ere  two  moons  are  set. 


3 


' 


3 


33 


Her  truant  eyes  will  lighten  his  sad  glance ; 

His  gloomy  aspect  temper  her  romance. 

They  * 11  match  each  other,  point  for  point,  I know, 
Far  different  from  Juliet  and  Romeo. 

Til  have  them  both  to  tea  some  moon- lit  night, 
And  leave  them  in  the  arbor ! That  ’ s all  right ! 
And  if  I marry  Juliet  to  his  grace 
I ’ 11  settle  all  the  troubles  on  this  place. 

Til  make  the  Capulets  my  very  slaves, 

And  bury  all  our  quarrels  in  deep  graves. 

They 'd  give  their  eyes  to  see  a wedding  ring 
On  Juliet  Ts  hand,  put  there  by  a prospective  king. 
Oh  Fate,  but  thou  art  kind,  that,  thus,  alone, 

I can  kill  two  birds  with  a single  stone. 

Exit  Lady  Montague. 

SCENE  II. — Elsinore.  A room  in  the  Castle. 
Romeo  and  the  Queen. 

Rom.  The  sum  and  substance  of  the  matter 's  thus : — 


34 


Queen 

Rom. 


We're  offering  you  a block  of  stock,  for  cash, 
At  scarce  a tithe  of  What  its  value  is. 

Our  purpose  in  thus  favoring  you  is  love. 

Thou  art  an  old  friend  to  my  mother  dear, 

And  I would  fain  see  all  her  friends  made  rich. 
But  what  assurance  have  we  that  this  stock 
Has  any  value  past  the  parchment  used  ? 

Why,  this,  dear  queen  I This  company  of  ours 
Is  officered  by  men  of  rare  repute. 

There's  General  Falstaff  is  the  President; 

Sir  Toby  Belch  the  Grand  Secretary; 

While  Honest  Iago  is  the  Treasurer. 

With  men  like  these  to  back  this  Trust  of  ours, 
What  need  to  speak  of  else  security  ? 

Why,  the  mere  names  of  these  illustrious  men 
Is  presage  of  the  cause  they  represent ; 

Nor  is  it  possible  for  such  to  fail. 

And  they ' 11  not  fail ! In  the  bright  lexicon 


3 7? 


s 


> 


35 


From  which  they  have  evolved  this  mighty  scheme 
There 's  no  such  word  as  fail. 

Queen  But  tell  me,  then, 

The  nature  of  the  work  they've  undertaken. 

Rom . Madam,  they  're  boring  for  oil,  or  gas,  perchance ; 

It  makes  no  whit  of  difference  which,  in  faith ! 

Missing  the  one,  they ' 11  strike  the  other,  sure  1 
They  have  the  right  of  way  to  the  center  o ' the  earth, 
And  they ' 11  strike  something,  ere  they  there  arrive ! 
Queen  But  will  they  there  arrive  ? Pray  tell  me  that ! 

Rom.  Arrive,  good  madam  ? If  you  knew  these  men, 

Y ou 'd  know  that  what  they  go  for  they  obtain. 

I 've  seen  Jack  Falstaff  and  a cup  of  sack 
Set  miles  apart,  with  an  armed  camp  between, 

And  that  the  enemy's!  Did  he  arrive  ? 

No  drop  of  sack  was  left  to  tell  the  tale ! 

If  he  will  venture  thus  for  such  small  worth, 

What  may  we  not  expect  for  larger  gain  ? 


36 


But  then,  this  stock  is  fully  guaranteed ; 

Sir  Andrew  Augue .Cheek  is  on  the  bond! 

Oh,  there  's  no  chance  for  loss,  but  all  for  gain, 

With  such  sure  backing  as  his  name  presents. 

Queen  And  how  much  are  you  asking  for  this  precious  stock  ? 
Rom.  We're  selling  now  for  fifteen  cents  the  share. 

The  full  face  value  of  the  same  will  soon 
Be  worth  a hundred  — in  six  months,  at  least. 

If  9 tis  not  so,  this  much  I ' 11  guarantee : 

That  ere  that  time  arrives,  each  share  you  hold 
Will  look  like  thirty  cents,  or  I'm  not  here! 

Queen  1 9 11  make  full  note  of  all  you  say,  fair  sir ; 

And  will  consult  the  king  upon  the  same. 

Meantime  wait  you  upon  us  as  you  will. 

9 T will  pleasure  us  to  have  you  meet  our  court. 
Polonius,  our  chamberlain,  my  lord, 

And  his  fair  daughter  will  be  here  the  while,' 

With  Rozencrantz  and  Guildenstern  besides. 


o 


3 


> 


I pledge  you  that  they  make  great  company. 
Rom.  You  do  me  honor  much,  most  noble  queen; 

All  these  in  due  course  shall  by  me  be  seen. 

I quit  you  now  for  a brief  space.  Adieu ! 

Have  you  no  fear  but  1 1 11  come  back  to  you. 

Exit  Romeo. 

Queen  So,  there  you  are ! He  takes  me  for  a dunce. 

1 7 11  try  conclusions  with  him,  just  for  once. 

He  thinks  to  sell  me  stock.  Wait  till  he  sees, 
What  1 7 11  sell  him  without  his  agonies ! 

1 7 11  wed  him  to  Ophelia ! What  a pair ! 

The  saw  is  good,  “In  love  and  war  all's  fair." 

Exit  Queen. 


38 


ACT  in. 

SCENE  I,— Verona.  A road. 

Enter  Hamlet  and  Juliet. 

Ham . So!  Walk  you  close!  The  way  is  rugged  here ! 

Jut.  And  yet  I fear  no  harm ; I 'm  strong,  you  know. 
Ham.  Aye,  truly,  strong  and  brave  you  are,  sweet  girl ; 
A quality  most  women  lack,  methinks. 

Jut.  Perchance  you  * ve  not  seen  much  of  women,  sir ; 
To  thus  make  question  of  their  bravery. 

Ham.  I do  confess  they  're  partly  strange  to  me. 

I 'm  somewhat  shy ; was  to  that  manner  born. 

My  mother  shielded  me  from  girls,  alway. 

My  playmates  all  were  ever  boys  and  beasts. 

' T was  held,  in  Denmark,  to  make  weakling  men, 
Should  boys  associate  with  the  gentler  sex. 

Indeed,  we  never  heard  of  co-eds  there, 

But  all  were  kept  as  separate  as  the  stars. 

So  I've  seen  small  of  women.  But  your  eyes — 


39 


Jul.  Take  care,  good  sir!  That  was  a treacherous  place! 
Ham . A plague  upon  these  stones ! These  senseless  stones, 
Would  trip  a foot,  a dainty  foot,  like  thine! 

Stones  that  should  thrill  and  tingle  at  a touch 
Of  thy  shoe 's  sole ; and  glow  with  ardent  flame, 

At  even  being  trod  upon  by  thee ! 

Jul.  Oh,  blame  them  not,  my  lord ! Perhaps  they  were 

Not  reared  'mongst  women,  and  know  not  their  ways! 
Perchance  we  stumble,  too,  where  we  should  stand. 

I 'm  sure  the  stones  are  not  alone  at  fault. 

Ham.  Oh,  sweet  and  lovely  soul,  that  thus  bestows 
Blest  charity,  e'enon  unfeeling  rocks ! 

What  is  there  else,  in  all  this  world  of  ours 
Could  not  win  pity  from  such  gentle  heart  ? 

Yet,  being  so  lofty,  how  could  any  man 
Dare  make  petition  for  thy  gracious  smile  ? 

For,  far  more  brutal  than  the  rocks  are  men. 

Jul . I would  not  hear  thine  enemy  say  so ; 


Nor  should  your  highness  thus  declare,  my  lord! 

For  my  poor  self,  I know  not  much  of  men.  7 ) 

My  nurse  has  told  me  they  are  horrid  things. 

Yet,  when  I meet  a man,  as  now  with  you, 

I find  him  gentleness  itself.  ’ T is  strange ! 

Are  men  all  gentle  thus ; and  has  nurse  lied  ? 

Or  are  you  an  exception  to  the  rule  ? 

Enlighten,  if  you  can,  my  ignorance, 

That  I may  learn  a little  thus  of  men. 

Ham . Oh,  Juliet!  I care  not  that  you  learn  j 

Of  other  men,  but  pray  you  learn  of  me. 

Sweet  maid,  I ’m  ill  at  words.  I have  no  art 
To  reckon  all  I have  to  say  to  thee; 

But  that  I love  thee  best ; oh,  most,  believe ! 

Doubt  thou  the  stars  are  fire ; 

Doubt  that  the  sun  doth  move; 

Doubt  truth  to  be  a liar ; 

But  never  doubt,  I Idbe. 


41 


Jul.  This  is  so  sudden,  sir!  What  shall  I say? 

I never  dreamed  that  you  could  love  poor  me. 

For  I am  but  a simple,  guileless  girl, 

Whose  nurse  is  waiting  while  I talk  to  thee. 

Oh,  give  me  time  to  think ! Beshrew  my  heart ! 

Ham.  Why  should  you  think?  The  heart  is  not  for  thought! 
Let  the  proud  head  take  thought ! Such  is  his  sphere ! 
But  hearts ! Oh,  hearts  like  ours,  maid  most  divine, 
They  're  only  made  for  love ! Let  your  heart  speak ! 

9 T will  tell  of  love  I know ; perchance  for  me ! 

' T will  tell  me  you  will  be  my  wedded  wife, 

And  bring  me  joy  such  as  man  never  knew. 

Speak ! Speak,  dear  Juliet,  or  ere  I die  from  fear ; 

Fear  that  I needs  must  lose  thee  from  my  life. 

Jul.  Thou  shalt  not  die,  but  live,  if  words  of  mine 

Can  give  thee  life!  Yea,  thou  shouldst  live  for  aye 
If  words  and  love  of  mine  couldst  give  thee  life ! — 

Lord  Hamlet,  much  at  loss  I am  to  know 


42 


How  this  should  be;  but  that  I love  thee,  true, 

I feel  in  every  fiber  of  my  heart.  " \- 

My  very  soul  goes  out  to  thee  in  love. 

Ham.  Now  let  the  gods  be  thanked,  the  world  be  glad ; 

The  heart  of  Hamlet  no  more  shall  be  sad. 

I’ll  sell  my  sables  to  the  “ ole  clo’es”  man, 

And  laugh  and  sing,  and  dance  the  wild  can-can ! 

Jut.  And  I’ll  dance  with  thee  through  the  livelong  day. 

For  this  is  life!  So  runs  the  world  away ! [Exeunt. 

SCENE  II. — Elsinore.  A room  in  the  palace.  t 

Romeo  and  Ophelia. 

Rom.  Oh,  fair  Ophelia,  may  I speak  to  your  back  hair  ? 

Oph.  And  why  not  to  my  bangs,  I pray  you,  sir  ? 

Rom.  Because  I Ve  something  special  that  I Td  say ; 

A something  I have  never  said  before 
To  any  maid  in  all  this  wide,  wide  world. 

I Ve  heard  that  other  men  have  said  the  like ; 

I Ve  seen  and  heard  them  say  it,  on  the  stage, 


43 


And  there  it  *s  always  said  to  the  back  hair. 

That  is  the  proper  thing,  and  of  all  men 
That  ever  lived,  I'd  do  the  proper  thing. 

Oph.  1 T is  well  to  do  the  proper  thing,  I Tm  sure ; 

My  sire,  Polonius,  hath  told  me  so. 

And  so,  if  it  is  proper,  you  may  speak 

To  my  back  hair.  Shall  I heed  what  you  say? 

Rom . Ophelia,  by  yon  blessed  moon  I swear  — 

Oph.  Oh,  do  not  swear,  good  sir ! For  I am  sure 
It  is  not  proper  to  swear,  e 'en  to  back  hair ! 

Rom.  But  I must  swear,  and  will ! By  yonder  moon 
That  tips  with  silver  all  those  fruit-tree  tops, 

I swear  I love  thee!  Wilt  thou  love  in  turn? 

Oph.  How  can  I turn  and  still  keep  to  thee  my  back  hair  ? 

If  I could  face  thee,  then  perchance  I 'd  know. 

Rom.  Oh,  face  me,  then!  Full  face!  Face  full  of  love! 
I've  never  lived  till  now;  but  now  I live! 

I live  to  love ! I love  to  live  for  thee ! 


44 


Opb.  Alas,  my  heart,  what  have  I ever  done 

To  win  such  adoration  from  a man?  ' 

I ne  'er  supposed  that  men  could  say  such  things ; 

And  are  they  true  ? My  father,  sir,  has  said 
Such  words  are  springes  to  catch  woodcocks.  That 
When  the  blood  burns,  then,  prodigal,  the  soul 
Lends  the  tongue  vows ; these  blazes,  though,  he  says, 

Give  more  of  light  than  hea.t ; and  I,  he  urged, 

Should  not  take  light  for  fire.  How  shall  I know 

This  blaze  of  thine  is  fire  and  not  a flash  ? j 

He  told  me  ne  ’er  to  take  flash  tenders  for  true  pay. 

Rom.  Oh,  fair  Ophelia,  what  more  can  I say  ? 

I worship  thee  with  all  my  heart  and  soul. 

Come  to  my  arms ! Feel  my  heart  beat  and  throb  1 — 

I came  to  Denmark  to  exploit  a scheme, 

To  sell  white  paper  for  full  pots  of  gold. 

By  heaven,  1 9 11  prove  my  love  for  thee  by  this  — 

I ’ 11  cut  the  whole  sharp  practice  from  my  life ; 


45 


Throw  every  dollar  to  the  whistling  winds  — 

Oph.  Oh,  throw  not  dollars  to  the  winds,  my  lord ! 
What  need  have  winds  of  dollars  or  of  dimes  ? 

But  men  can  use  them,  aye,  and  women  too. 

So  throw  no  gold  away  for  me,  I pray. 

Nay,  and  you  love  me,  keep  you  all  you  have. 
We'll  need  it  for  some  rainy  day,  perhaps. 

Rom . Does  that  mean  yes ; the  rainy  day  for  us  ? 

Oph . * T is  yes,  my  Romeo.  9 T is  yes,  indeed. 

My  heart  is  yours.  To  one  note  both  are  keyed. 
Rom . How  can  I ever  tell  thee  my  delight  ? 

I 'm  glad  mamma  was  late  from  club  that  night. 
Oph . Was  late  from  club  ? Pray  what  has  that  to  do 
With  that  which  now  engages  me  and  you? 

Rom . A truant  fancy,  my  Ophelia  dear. 

The  gods  have  crooked  ways ; but  never  fear. 
Our  love  is  sure ; or  blow  or  high  or  low ; 

The  love  of  fair  Ophelia  and  her  Romeo. 


46 


> 


Opk.  9 T is  so ! 9 T is  sure,  I *m  sure,  as  sure  can  be. 

And  so  I ' 11  ne  'er  go  to  a nunnery. 

Rom . A nunnery ! Why  shouldst  thou  think  of  such 
In  this  blest  hour,  when  we  both  love  so  much  ? 

Oph.  A truant  fancy,  just,  my  Romeo. 

We 9 11  let  it  pass ! One  kiss  before  we  go ! 

Rom.  Thy  lips  are  nectar  to  my  lips,  sweet  one ; 

The  gods  be  thanked,  our  sweets  are  just  begun. 

[ Exeunt. 

ACT  IV. 

SCENE  I. — Verona.  A room  in  the  Palace.  Juliet  seated 
with  her  baby  in  her  lap. 

Enter  Hamlet. 

Ham.  Now  is  the  winter  of  my  discontent 

Made  glorious  summer  by  this  son  of  ours ; 

And  all  the  clouds  that  lowered  about  my  brow 
Deep  in  the  bosom  of  the  ocean  buried. 

For  what  boots  honor,  aye,  or  kingly  crown, 


47 


Compared  with  fatherhood  and  its  pure  joys? 

What  diadem  can  grace  a queenly  head, 

Like  that  which  gracious  motherhood  bestows  ? 

Oh,  Juliet,  I loved  thee  from  the  first ; 

But  not  with  love  such  as  I feel  this  hour. 

For  thou  hast  crowned  my  life  with  every  good ; 

From  out  my  soul  hast  purged  despondency ; 

Bade  night  be  gone,  and  ushered  in  clear  day. 

How  can  I ever  worship  thee  enough ; 

How  bless  enough  the  ways  that  brought  me  thee  ? 

Jul.  Your  words  are  precious  to  my  heart,  my  lord. 

The  proudest  summit  woman  e 9 er  can  gain 
Is  where  she  stands,  in  that  glad  hour  when  she 
Can  to  the  world  proclaim  her  husband,  father  — 

Aye,  father  of  a son,  who ’ 11  bear  his  name. 

And  this,  our  son,  shall  bear  your  great  name,  Hamlet ! 
And  Prince  of  Denmark  he  shall  one  day  be. 

Meantime,  I have  arranged  his  christening. 


48 


We'll  give  a banquet  on  that  glad  event, 

And  all  our  friends  and  kindred  shall  be  there.  ^ 

And,  foremost  from  amongst  them  all,  shall  be 
Our  once  dread  enemies,  the  Montagues ; 

Now  our  fast  friends,  made  so  by  your  advent. 

For  Lady  Montague  brought  you  to  me, 

And  in  the  ocean  of  our  love  is  drowned 
All  ancient  feuds  between  our  families. 

Oh,  mighty  potency  of  gentle  love 

That  thus  can  quench  a century  of  hate ! ^ 

How,  better  far  than  bloodshed  is  its  balm 
To  heal  the  wounds  that  jealousy  imparts ! 

Ham.  ’T is  well,  dear  wife.  We'll  make  it  a great  day; 

A day  to  long  remember  through  the  years. 

Jul.  The  Friar  Laurence  will  baptize  the  boy, 

But  who  shall  then  his  true  god-fathers  be? 

Ham.  Who  but  Mercutio  and  Benvolio? 

With  Tybalt,  if  you  need  a third.  They're  friends  — 


49 


All  friends  at  last.  Their  swords  are  useless  now. 

We’ll  stand  them  in  one  row,  and  they  shall  make  one  bow! 
Come,  son  of  mine,  to  your  dear  father ’s  arms. 

Where  love  holds  sway,  there  never  war  alarms. 

SCENE  II.  — Elsinore.  A room  in  the  castle. 

Present  Romeo  ’with  Ophelia. 

Rom . What  said  your  father  then  about  the  case  ? 

Oph.  “’Tis  true  ’tis  pity,  pity  5 1 is  ’tis  true,” 

He  said,  and  then  turned  on  his  heel  to  go. 

Rom . He  has  a wond  ’rous  way  of  mouthing  words ; 

And  yet,  beneath  it  all,  a wealth  of  sense. 

But  I forgive  him  all  his  wanderings 
For  the  one  fact  that  he  your  father  is. 

For  that  he  gave  you  life  is  greater  far 
Than  to  be  king  of  this  wide  realm  withal  — 

And  yet  I fain  would  know  the  utmost  right 
Of  this  same  kingship,  of  which  I’ve  been  told. 

Knew  you  this  Hamlet,  who  they  say  is  prince  ? 


50 


Oph.  Indifferent  well,  at  most,  for  he  was  strange. 

Filled  full  of  dubious  ways  and  gloomy  looks, 

Till  all  the  world  seemed  to  him  black  as  night. 

My  father  told  me  he  was  truly  mad. 

Rom.  And  who  can  wonder,  if  this  tale  be  true  ? 

For  Rosencrantz  and  Guilderstern  have  said 
His  father  died  a most  unnatural  death, 

Slain  by  his  uncle,  him  who  now  is  king. 

If  I can  prove  this  to  be  truth,  indeed, 

And  that  this  Hamlet,  whom  my  mother  knows,  ^ 

Is  heir  to  Denmark 9 s throne,  then,  by  the  rood, 

There 9 11  be  strange  play  throughout  this  land,  full  soon ! 

Oph.  It  may  be  truth.  I heard  the  king,  to-day, 

When  at  his  prayers,  and  thus  it  was  he  prayed : — 

“Oh,  my  offence  is  rank,  it  smells  to  heaven; 

It  hath  the  primal  eldest  curse  upon ' t, 

A brother’s  murder.” 

Rom.  Said  he  those  fateful  words  ? 


51 


Then,  on  my  soul,  he 's  guilty,  past  a doubt. 

And  I will  prove  him  so,  in  very  truth. 

Or  e 'er  those  shoes  are  old  he's  wearing  now. 

Then  Hamlet  shall  return  and  claim  his  own, 

And  Denmark 's  lawful  king  sit  on  the  throne. 

Oph.  Thou  hast  a noble  heart,  O husband  mine. 

Heaven  bless  the  day  that  linked  my  life  with  thine. 
I ' 11  ply  Polonius  for  evidence 

Of  this  great  crime,  when  you  are  gone  from  hence. 
He 's  wary  of  most  people,  but  to  me 
He  is  the  soul  of  rare  simplicity. 

My  hand  to  yours ! Together  we  will  win; 

Bring  retribution  for  this  awful  sin. 

And  if  we  can  the  rightful  king  restore, 

What  minister  but  you  shall  to  the  fore  ? 

You  shall,  of  right,  be  placed  at  his  right  hand, 

And  I ' 11  be  second  lady  in  the  land. 

Rom.  I feel  the  deed  half  done,  now  it 's  begun ; 


52 


[ Exeunt . 


Rom . 

/ 


Nothing  shall  stay  our  hands  till  all  is  won. 

— ACT  V. 

SCENE  I.— Elsinore.  A room  in  the  castle. 
Romeo  with  Ophelia. 

So  now  the  deed  is  done,  the  die  is  cast. 

The  false  king  abdicated  and  is  gone ; 

The  queen  consenting  to  his  banishment. 

Poor  soul ! She  scarce  could  make  herself  believe 
The  charge  we  made  was  true,  so  truthful  she. 
But  when  Polonius  told  all  that  he  knew, 

The  traitor  fell  upon  his  knees  and  begged. 

The  court  held  sternly  to  the  law ; but  when 
The  queen  asked  for  his  life,  because  of  all 
The  sore  temptations  that  had  hedged  him  in, 
The  general  voice  was  raised  for  banishment ; 
And  so  the  fudge  gave  sentence  as  he  sat. 


/ 


3 


53 


Oph.  9 T is  a great  wrong  thou  hast  made  right  at  last. 

And  now  we ' 11  plan  the  lawful  king 's  return. 

Your  mother  writes  he's  ready  to  set  sail, 

Whene'er  he  learns  the  way  is  open  here. 

But  soft ! Here  comes  the  queen ! Welcome,  your  grace 
Rom . Thrice  welcome,  noble  queen ! 

Queen  Thanks,  courteous  friends  1 For  such  you  are  to  me ! 

In  these  dread  days  of  trial  you 've  stood  true. 

For,  while  you  struck  the  traitor  to  our  state, 

'T  was  justice  and  not  malice  drove  your  blade. 

And  when  the  sword  of  justice  once  is  drawn, 

Not  triple  armor  can  its  blows  forefend ! 

But,  more  than  all ; I 'm  sure  you  understand, 

And  know,  that,  through  it  all,  I was  misled. 

Of  the  king's  death,  the  truth  I never  knew 
Until  you  proved  it  in  the  open  court. 

I truly  thought  he  died  a natural  death; 

And,  when  he  passed,  my  son  the  prince,  was  young, — 


54 


Too  young  to  undertake  the  cares  of  state, 

Which  then  was-sorely  troubled,  much  distraught. 

And  since  I deemed  his  uncle  strong  and  wise, 

Well  skilled  in  state-craft  and  our  people’s  needs, 

I gave  consent  to  place  him  on  the  throne, 

To  save  my  offspring  from  untimely  cares. 

-I  felt  that  some  day  he 'd  return  as  king, 

As  now  he  will,  but  not  as  I foresaw. 

O,  wond’rous  are  the  ways  of  Providence  ! 

And  true  it  is,  there ’s  a divinity 

That  shapes  our  ends,  rough  hew  them  how  we  will ! — 
Have  you  late  news?  The  people,  what  say  they  ? 

Rom.  They  ’re  loyal  to  your  gracious  majesty, 

And  with  one  voice  they  do  proclaim  their  love, 

Begging  that  Hamlet  may  return  forthwith, 

And  straight  be  crowned  by  them  as  Denmark 's  king. 

His  coronation  is  the  only  theme 

On  which  they  speak ; and  what  the  day  and  place ; 


What  streets  the  concourse  shall  traverse,  and  where ; 

What  price  they ' 11  ask  for  window-seats  and  chairs ; 

What  clothes  his  royal  majesty  shall  wear ; 

What  kind  of  oil  shall  be  poured  on  his  head ; 

What  man  shall  bear  his  tooth  brush  and  his  mug ! 

These  and  a thousand  other  weighty  themes 
Fill  all  their  hearts.  They  speak  of  naught  besides. 

All  thoughts  of  war  are  dead,  all  conflicts  ceased, 

The  coronation  overwhelming  all. 

Queen  ’ T is  well,  Sir  Romeo ! For  such  I make  thee  now ! 

For  thou  hast  brought  this  great  event  about. 

Perfect,  in  full,  arrangements  for  the  day, 

And  further  win  my  gratitude,  I pray. 

Rom . * T is  my  chief  joy  to  serve  your  majesty ; 

Has  been,  is  now,  and  so  shall  ever  be. 

[Exeunt. 


56 


SCENE  II. — Elsinore.  A room  in  the  castle. 

Enter  the  Queen,  Romeo  and  Ophelia,  with  Courtier. 
Hark ! How  the  trumpet  sounds  his  welcome  home ; 
And  brazen-throated  cannon  belch  his  name ! 

* T is  a glad  noise,  and  fills  our  land  with  joy. 

But  though  the  blare  and  roar  should  swell  so  loud 
That  in  the  hurdy  death  itself  should  wake, 

Not  half  the  welcome  would  they  bear  my  son 
That  waits  within  my  heart  to  greet  him  here. 

I pray  your  majesty  be  seated  now. 

Sirrah,  a chair!  So!  You  shall  greet  him  here! 

See,  here  he  comes ; King  Hamlet  leads  the  way. 

Enter  Hamlet,  Tuliet,  Young  Hamlet  and  Lady  Montague. 
Hamlet  advances  and  kneels  to  the  queen. 

Hail,  mother ! Gracious  queen  of  this  great  realm ! 
Nay,  do  not  rise,  but  let  me  kneel  to  thee. 

For  thou  art  more  to  me  than  queen,  by  far ; 

Thou  art  my  mother ; and  more  sacred  than  a crown 


o 


3 


57 


The  diadem  a noble  mother  wears. 

Yea,  though  you  ruled  the  space  of  earth  and  heaven, 

As  her  who  bore  me,  you  ?d  stand  first  to  me. 

Queen  Oh,  blessed  hour  that  brings  thy  glad  return. 

Heaven  knows  how,  through  the  years  I Ve  longed  for  thee. 
But  rise,  and  meet  the  man  who  won  thy  cause, 

Sir  Romeo,  the  bravest  knight  ere  drew 
A sword,  or  bore  the  name  of  gentleman. 

Ham.  I give  thee  the  glad  hand,  most  noble  sir. 

Your  mother  have  I known  these  many  years; 

And  to  her  grace  I am  in  duty  bound, 

Beyound  all  power  of  words  to  ever  pay. 

For,  by  her  gracious  help  I won  a wife 
Such  as  none  other  lives  in  all  the  world. 

Next  to  my  mother  hath  she  wrought  for  me 
What  wealth  and  honors  never  could  bestow; 

And  the  one,  proudest  moment  of  my  life 
Is  this,  when  face  to  face,  I see,  once  more, 


58 


The  two  blest  women  who  have  made  my  life. 

No  schoolmates  now,  but  mothers,  strong  and  wise. 

For  years  bring  not  decline  to  lives  like  theirs ; 

And  e 'en  old  age  means  ripeness,  not  decay ! 

Greet,  noble  mothers!  Yours  the  rarest  joys! 

We  bow  our  heads  in  presences  like  thine! 

Lady  M.  Oh,  noble  queen,  all  hail!  Though  queen,  the  same 
As  ever  were  you,  in  the  years  gone  by. 

For  years  change  not  the  hearts  that  truly  beat, 

And  thy  great  soul  is  ever  true,  I know. 

Queen  No  truer  than  your  own,  I'll  stake  my  life. 

What  joy  it  is  to  see  thy  face  again. 

Ham . Good  mother,  let  me  bring  your  daughter  now, 

My  dearest  Juliet,  worthiest  of  wives, 

With  our  loved  son,  the  Prince  of  Denmark,  too; 

Who  both  shall  bring  you  happiness  and  love. 

Queen  Come,  daughter  mine,  and  let  me  take  thy  hand. 

Thou  hast  full  reason  to  be  proud  to-day.  , 


59 


For  thou  art  mother  to  a some-day  king. 

And  thou,  my  grandson,  tell  me  now  thy  name. 


Young  Ham. 
Queen 


My  name  is  Hamlet. 


9 T is  a royal  name. 


Sir  Romeo,  my  daughter,  Juliet! 

You  ’ re  from  the  self-same  country,  should  be  friends. 
Rom.  Friends  we  were  once,  and  friends  shall  be  again. 

I 'm  much  beholden  to  her  ladyship, 

Who  gave  me  my  first  lessons  in  young  love. 

Jul.  He  was  a most  precocious  pupil,  quick  to  learn ; 

And  conned  his  lessons  far  into  the  night. 

I ’m  glad  to  see  my  teaching  held  so  well. 

Rom.  How  could  it  else,  being  so  ably  taught  ? 

Your  highness,  you  should  know  Ophelia  here. 

Ham.  Her  memory  lives  with  me  like  fresh  flowers ; 

But  yet  not  fairer  than  herself  this  hour. 

I know  that  happiness  has  crowned  thy  life, 

For  health  and  joy  stream,  radiant  from  thine  eyes. 


60 


Op h.  And  why  not  so,  my  lord  ? For  now  I dwell 
In  the  bright  sunshine  of  a husband 's  love ; 

A man  who  knows  not  fear,  nor  has  the  blues, 
And  ne  'er  speaks  to  me  of  a nunnery ! 

Ham . A truce,  Ophelia ! Let  the  past  be  past ; 

We'll  thank  the  gods  that  all  is  well  at  last. 

Queen  Come  one  and  all.  We'll  to  the  banquet  room. 
The  night  is  past,  and  with  it  woe  and  gloom. 
We'll  eat  and  drink,  and  pass  the  full  cup  'round; 
And  at  high  noon  King  Hamlet  shall  be  crowned. 
Rom.  There 's  only  one  regret  for  this  fair  day ; 

Be  patient  with  me,  while  I pause  to  say : — 

Of  all  the  guests  invited,  far  and  near 
I learn  that  Gentle  Alice  can ' t be  here  1 
For  which  we're  truly  sorry,  one  and  all; 

But  yet  we  feel  we  can 't  give  up  the  ball. 

The  caravan  will  move  on  schedule  time, 

The  price  of  seats  is  rising,  dime  by  dime ! 


61 


Secure  your  places  early,  ere  the  rush; 

And  then  take  care  you  ’re  not  caught  in  the  crush. 

Ham.  And  always  let  this  in  your  memory  lurk : — 

The  ways  of  two  wise  mothers  and  their  work. 

See  what  they've  done,  what  wrongs  they  have  made  right 
What  gloom  dispelled,  what  darkness  turned  to  light. 

Queen  We  ’ ve  done  for  youth  what  age  can  often  do ; 

Age  that  to  youth  should  be  both  wise  and  true. 

Lady  M.  We've  done  the  best  we  could;  have  had  our  way. 

We  wish  you  all  good  night ! So  ends  our  play! 


THE  END. 


. 


62 


